Heart of Wutai
by destinykeyblade
Summary: Back near the beginning of the war with Wutai, a young Second Class SOLDIER found himself separated from the rest of the army, completely alone in the wilderness... Until, of course, a traveling companion stumbled upon him and proceeded to make his life more difficult. Sephiroth ran a hand through his hair, staring in disbelief. This could NOT be happening to him.
1. Separation

Le gasp and a half, it's back again! I've been essentially dead to the fanfiction world for what, a year or more, maybe? And now I've written and posted three separate fanfics within a month of eachother? With more on the way? What in the world is going on here?! ...Simple, really. Sephiroth has breathed new life into my dying muse - which is why two of the three and almost all of the upcoming are focused on him. And the only one that's not is centered around Vincent XD What can I say? I love me the Valentines ^^

So, with my ranting finished, welcome to my newest chapter fic, Heart of Wutai. Unlike most chapter fics I write, I'm only planning on this one having four or five chapters, maaaybe six, but I'm not entirely certain on that point. In any case, it's not going to be one of those 20+ chapters monstrosities that I still need to finish. *hangs head in shame* Now then. As I can't write and usually can't read without music, I feel the need to inform you all what was going on in my head while this was being created. I had one song on repeat all the way up until the line break, and that song was _One Last Letter_ by Aviators, featuring Bronyfied. For those making faces, the lyrics were completely ignored, as I was focusing solely on the feel of the music. You can find it on YouTube pretty easily, and I very much recommend doing so :) Now, please enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Sephiroth or anything else you recognize from Final Fantasy VII. *sighs heavily* And it's probably a good thing I don't.

* * *

The sun beat down on the surface of the Planet, its rays of light scorching like fire - indeed, much like the fires, SOLDIER Second Class Sephiroth thought to himself as he watched the flames devour the enemy's fortifications. The acrid stench of burning hair and flesh permeated the once clear air that circulated through this place.

_Wutai_, he thought, casting a quick glance at his surroundings before refocusing his attention on the burning camp. _The only 'free' nation left on Gaia. This is what becomes of those who will not be subjugated... as they would know, had they ever studied this world's history._ Sephiroth did _not_ let out a hushed sigh, and even if he had, it would have been unnoticeable to the rest of his squadron; none the wiser but himself. The Wutaian people were indeed a free-spirited people, despite the strict rules of their culture. Intelligence was not something the majority of them were lacking in, however, and those he had met in negotiations seemed reasonable enough. He failed to see, then, why they would insist on defying what was bound to happen, why perfectly competent men who could speak so calmly in meetings with President Shinra would turn right around and declare war as soon as they had returned to their homeland.

Though thoughts such as these were nothing new, Sephiroth had never voiced a one of them to anyone. His upbringing had taught him one thing, at the very least - to those who might be in possession of the answers he sought, he was viewed as tool; some hammer they could bring down on those they wished to smash or reforge on their figurative anvil. Save the deep but infrequent conversations he had begun to participate in with Angeal Hewley, occasionally joined by Genesis Rhapsodos, silence was Sephiroth's immutable policy on important matters.

The wind gusted once, powerfully, sending Sephiroth's unusually long hair whipping about his face; next to the anguished scream, it was the only warning they received. He whirled about immediately, already shifting to a defensive stance, the steel of his newly acquired blade flashing in the harsh sunlight. The earth trembled both from the deep, rumbling roar and the impact of creature's landing as the dragon slammed its hind feet into the ground, wasting no time in laying about itself, thrashing SOLDIERs with its powerful, spiked tail and spitting out quick jets of flame. It didn't take long for it to drop to all fours, still attacking with that lethal tail and adding in slashes with its front claws.

Battle cries sounded from all around the silver-haired teen, as his commanding officer ordered the other men forward. He was meant to obey as well, but hung back, narrowed eyes flitting about, filing every one of the dragon's attacks into the part of his mind that allowed him to create such flawless strategies as he had been seen implementing from the war's beginning. While the others were batted aside, few landing a blow at all and almost none causing any damage to the beast, Sephiroth was studying, contemplating, formulating. The enormous dragon - obviously mutated in some way, for no other Wutaian dragon had ever been that size outside the people's ancient legends - seemed to follow a pattern of attacks: rearing back and raising up to breathe fire, slamming back down and causing quakes as efficiently as any materia, whipping its tail back and forth and raking its sword-like claws through the air. Sephiroth watched for a moment more, ensuring that he was correct, then rushed at his foe, adrenaline coursing through his veins.

He was little more than a blur of solid black and fluid silver as he flew towards the dragon, deftly jumping over and around the obstacles that were his comrades-in-arms. A cheer, admittedly sounding more like a roar, was raised as two or three of the other SOLDIERs realized it was he who had blown past them, clearly heading to vanquish this foul beast. It came as little surprise to Sephiroth when the dragon answered the sound with another bellow of its own, responding angrily to what it perceived as a challenge. Though it was usually something he looked down on - what need was there to yell, really? - the battles this week had seen his opinion on the matter shifting, and he allowed himself a powerful shout as he brought the Masamune down against the dragon's claw in a ringing blow. The shockwaves that traveled up his arms from the sheer force of the clash awoke in him a battle instinct, a greater rush of energy than mere adrenaline could ever hope to achieve, and he threw himself at the creature. The thin, folded steel of his weapon become akin to a whirlwind as he spun around, dodging the dragon's every attempt to injure him while slashing at its less-defended areas, under its 'arms' and along its stomach; his opponent roared in anger and pain, shifting its position, obviously preparing to unleash a more vicious attack. He felt himself smirk.

The dragon lashed out at him with its tail, and Sephiroth leapt into the air to avoid it, flicking his left wrist so that the blade in his hand bit at the beast's face, near its snout. Yet another thunderous sound left its throat. Sephiroth could see the ground beneath him shake. A rush of wind not dissimilar to the first buffetted him suddenly; the dragon had spread its wings, displacing the air in its vicinity and thus displacing the fifteen year-old, whose face instantly contorted into a severe frown. Time slowed, and he watched the dragon bend its hind legs, clearly preparing to spring off the ground, the enormous wings stretching out and angling slightly skyward. The thing was going to fly, and considering that very few of the SOLDIERs in this unit had any sort of proficiency with firearms, the grassy ridge on which they stood could easily be reduced to the same state as the fortress it allowed them overlook. He would have to end this, he decided, before any more carnage occurred. Thus, feeling as though he had had ample time to plot his next move though in reality only a few seconds had passed, Sephiroth managed to manuever himself nearer to the dragon and latch onto its right wing. The leathery appendage was surprisingly sturdy - more proof in his eyes that the creature had been altered - and though the dragon thrashed wildly in an attempt to dislodge him, Sephiroth was able to swing himself towards the broad, scaly back of the emerald animal.

As soon as his weight vanished from its wing, the now furious dragon launched itself into the air. Though he would scarcely admit it even to himself, the breath was knocked from Sephiroth's chest as he slammed into its back, narrowly avoiding spines such as those decorating the tail of the monster. A brief, involuntary hiss out pain escaped the newly-promoted Second as he fought with the rushing wind to rise into a position he could actually use. The ridges that had but a moment ago threatened to impale him were revealed to be a boon; he hauled himself up with his right hand, his grip on both the dragon and the Masamune comparable to a vice. Carefully but by no means slowly, Sephiroth made his way along the animal's back, feeling as though he were on a ship in the most violent of seas. Fortunately, balance had never presented much of a problem to him, and so despite the tumultuous movement he approached the dragon's head, his blade at the ready.

Holding tightly to a shorter spine near the beast's shoulders, Sephiroth narrowed his eyes as he took his aim, his focus on an extremely small space where the scales connected; if he drove the point of the Masamune straight in, it should slide easily through the hide and into the brain of the animal, killing it quickly. He waited for another moment, eyes closed, feeling the way the dragon's body undulated until he was confident that he could perform the task ahead. Any mutated creature constituted a threat, as it could not be said with any surety that they would react to things the way their unaltered kin did, and Sephiroth did not want anything more to go wrong as a result of this dragon. He had taken note as he dashed toward it on the ground of how many men had fallen to it, and though several had simply been injured, the count was sufficient cause for alarm. Not that Sephiroth felt any. Their commanding officer and the rest of Shinra would, however, and so he raised the monstrous katana, aiming it directly at the spot he'd selected. The dragon's body surged up through the wind, and as it began to dip back downward, he struck.

Sephiroth's glowing eyes widened, shock registering in them and across his face as he fell backward, though he righted himself in very short order by grabbing onto the shoulder-spike. _It bounced off,_ he thought, pointedly not letting his jaw drop. The point of his sword had been angled _precisely_ at the space between the scales. It should have gone in effortlessly! Instead, he had watched in complete amazement as his blade - the Masamune, which could cut through a door of solid steel! - simply _bounced_ off the creature harmlessly, leaving it completely unscathed. And angry, he realized as a furious roar issued from the monstrosity's mouth. He was knocked off balance once again when it abruptly folded its wings and went into a steep dive. Holding almost desperately to the wrapped hilt of the Masamune, Sephiroth seized an even smaller spike with his right hand, the one he'd held before out now of his reach, and did his best to entwine his right leg between two behind him. The bottom of his left boot was too slick to give him any traction, but he fought nonetheless to find some sort of purchase on the dark green scales. The wind rushed intolerably loudly in his ears, Masamune singing as it fell through the air. Silver strands whipped all about, obscuring his vision at times and stinging his face at others. Growling deeply in his throat, Sephiroth tensed his right shoulder, taking a breath before attempting to haul himself forward.

His muscles screamed in protest - or would have, had he not been filled to the brim with the rush of battle, the heat surging through his entire body like no other thrill could. As it was, they welcomed the challenge, straining to support his weight as he pulled himself nearer to the dragon's head, inch by impossible inch. His boots slipped regularly as he tried to crawl, constantly fighting to keep himself pressed to the scaly armor rather than flapping like a pennant in the wind. Over the beast's side, he caught a glimpse of jagged stone. _Mountains?_, he wondered briefly before dismissing the thought to focus again on the task at hand. His speed was almost nonexistent, but the fact remained that he was making progress, slowly triumphing over the combined factors of the wind and the dragon's increasingly erratic flight patterns. From time to time the creature spun, wild corkscrews in an attempt to dislodge him; when it failed to work, it would flap its wings and climb almost vertically into the sky before folding them back to its sides and repeating the process.

At long last, Sephiroth was nearly back where he had started, close to the back of his adversary's head. Despite his excellent physical condition, the fifteen year-old was breathing hard, his heart pumping madly to get the blood flowing to his half-frozen limbs; the altitudes the dragon had reached coupled with the bite of the wind had done a number on him, whether he allowed himself to feel it at the moment or not. Green eyes narrowed in concentration as Sephiroth moved his left arm into position, the force of the air rushing past him working to rip the massive weapon from his hand. The dragon unfurled its wings and pulled up out of its dive, coasting horizontally for a moment. A quick glance downward revealed green-covered earth below them, no boulders of cliffs in sight. The dragon flapped once, preparing to ascend yet again. Roaring his own displeasure at the situation, Sephiroth struck, the Masamune whistling through the air to slice cleanly into the monster's leathery wings.

A scream issued from both their throats as the dragon lost both blood and its balance, fumbling to right itself and failing miserably as its left wing hung useless at its side, the partially severed half making a sickening flapping noise as they hurtled toward the earth. Sephiroth braced himself for the impact they were sure to make, gritting his teeth. The dragon thrashed wildly, its right wing working in a furious attempt to regain control of their literal downfall. Though they had been far, far above the Planet's surface, it took mere moments for them to reach it again. Seconds before the creature's body came into contact with the ground, Sephiroth forced his limbs into motion, leaping up into the air. The emerald mutant crashed down with a screech of pain, totaling the land beneath it as it skidded across the grassy expanse, its spines and body digging in and leaving a deep, uneven trench in its wake.

Off to the side and far behind, Sephiroth had managed to land, if jarringly, on his feet, and had immediately pushed his body forward again, determinedly chasing after the beast. He was only slightly disappointed when, upon reaching it, he found that it had been rather damaged in the fall. Its scales, apparently softer underneath, were scuffed and dirtied from plowing through the dirt, and blood was seeping from several spots that appeared to have been rubbed raw. It still roared at him when its enormous eyes came into focus, but otherwise did not threaten him. Sephiroth felt his eyes narrow and his forehead crease as he raised his sword, purposefully ignoring the emotion welling up inside him. This creature had not asked to be altered the way it had. More than likely its attack on his unit had been out of some animalistic sense of being threatened by their presence, or a basic territorial instinct. From where he stood, nothing this dragon had done seemed to have been in cold blood, and though he cursed himself silently, Sephiroth could not bring himself to end its life in such a way. It would be quicker not to cut its throat anyway, he reasoned, cursing again at the remorse shining in his eyes as he plunged his steel through one of the dragon's.

With a heavy sigh that he did not bother trying to hide, Sephiroth withdrew the blade, the light in the animal's eyes having darkened. It was dead. Acting solely out of habit, he pulled a cloth out of the pocket of his coat, bringing it to the Masamune's blade to clean the blood from its surface. He gasped involuntarily as his shaking fingers, still stiff and cold from his trek into the sky, met the edge of the sword; blood bloomed an impossibly vibrant crimson against the ghostly pallor of his skin. Growling lowly in the back of his throat, Sephiroth extended his right hand toward the dragon's corpse, shivering and despising it as he called forth the power of the glowing orb nestled in the slot on his bracer. He felt his energy level get lower, but paid it little heed, knowing he would recover in short order, focusing instead on the flames that, at his urging, were beginning to overtake the form of his enemy. Within a short time, he stood beside a blazing bonfire that served not only to thaw him out, but as a signal for his companions as to his location.

Sephiroth almost started at that thought, mentally berating himself as he scanned his current surroundings for any sign of them. How could he have been so _stupid_?! He'd never made the mistake of losing track of them before! Had the cold numbed his _brain_ as well? Fingers that had at last gotten comfortably warm again combed briefly through silver tresses before tossing them over a black-clad shoulder. It wasn't likely. He had simply allowed himself to get too carried away in his battle with the dragon, and now... His eyes beheld scenery that was entirely unfamiliar to them, though he realized after a moment, a grim expression forming on his face, that the steep, rocky mountains to the southwest of him had once been to the northeast. The dragon had flown him over them - it was no wonder, then, that he'd been so cold; several of the peaks were clouded, but the snow sitting atop them could still be easily perceived.

Another sigh grudgingly left his mouth, this one decidedly resigned as he considered the facts. He was alone. The rest of his unit was far across the mountains, inaccessible to him. The smoke from the burning corpse was likely garnering the attention of the Wutaians rather than other SOLDIER operatives. And there was absolutely nothing for it but to start traveling and hope that he could make it somewhere closer to his or another squad before he was discovered by the enemy's forces. In a way, he supposed that it couldn't have been avoided; after all, he had most certainly not been in control of the creature he'd killed, and given that no one in his squad had been carrying a ranged weapon, his method had likely been the only way to get rid of the thing. He glanced up at the body from his position in the grass, where he sat cleaning the gore from his sword. The smell it gave off was horrendous, and he could see it blackening as the flames licked at it hungrily. Even given his natural proficiency with materia, it had taken an unusual amount of effort to set it aflame. Whatever alterations had been made to it had clearly made it somewhat resistant to magic. If his comrades, with their sloppy techniques wielding spells, had attempted to bring the dragon down with their own materia, they'd have only succeeded in killing one another while the beast looked on. A wry smile curved his lips as he envisioned it: he and the dragon, standing on opposite sides of the battlefield, watching and casting one another amused glances from time to time as the magic-deficient Seconds fried eachother.

When the magic-induced flames began to run out of flesh to burn, Sephiroth rose to his feet and returned the Masamune to its sheath, looking over the landscape with a critical eye. He had a vague idea of where he was from the maps of the island he had studied, but when seeing it in person, much of Wutai looked the same, so he couldn't be confident that he was correct. Nonetheless, he started off, plotting a course in his mind's eye that should take him around the normally uncrossable mountains. The journey should not take more than a few days if he kept his pace steady - a good thing, as he did not have an overabundance of supplies. His items were still in his possession, including, he had found with a grimace, the packets containing that hideous excuse for food Shinra provided them with while in the field. One of these days, he was going to have to do something about them; he was rising swiftly through the ranks of the army, and it could not be long before he was promoted to First Class. With any luck, that would provide him a chance to fix things somewhat for the lower classes. The Firsts 'in charge' now had decided to laugh and revel in the amenities they had been granted rather than use their influence to do their comrades any kindnesses.

_Petty people should never be granted a position of power,_ Sephiroth groused, quickening his stride. Most likely it had been caused by more of the Wutaian monster population, but there was a strange sound coming from nearby, and if it was other humans, he might be be able to save himself the trek around the mountains' base. _It only leads to someone else's suffering._ The sounds were getting closer, and Sephiroth pushed his musings to the back of his mind, unconsciously shifting his stance and beginning to stalk towards the origin rather than walk, his heavy boots making no sound against the earth.

* * *

The moon was but a sliver in the sky, the stars scattered around it almost seeming brighter than the night's primary source of light. Sephiroth lay on his back, arms behind his head, the Masamune on the ground beside him in such a position that the hilt was in easy reach. Not that he expected to need it. The teen rolled his eyes slightly. As he'd thought, he was virtually alone in the wilderness, the Wutaian fauna his only companion. After dispatching the small flock of Thunder Birds, Sephiroth had continued on his path, stopping only when he could no longer deny that he was hungry. After choking down some of the almost inedible rations, he had decided to stop for the night. The mako injections had granted him improved eyesight, and he could have kept moving, but didn't see much point in it. Unlike certain beasts prowling around Midgar, the Wutaian monsters seemed to retire with the sun, leaving him with little risk of being attacked. He had seen no signs of human habitation anywhere nearby, so an attack from the Wutaian people was not looking any more likely. Sephiroth shifted his position, resting his head on his right hand, and bringing his left to rest somewhere nearer to his blade. No matter what the odds, caution was never a bad thing, he thought before he let his eyes slide closed.

The next day brought more of the same: Sephiroth traveled in solitude, offing the monsters that dared to attack him and 'keeping his eyes peeled', as Angeal had said once, though Sephiroth hadn't really understood the phrase, for any signs that was not the only human in the vicinity. The leather clothes he wore became less than desirable as the heat of the sun bore down on him, the Wutaian humidity only serving to worsen both the situation and his mood. Muttering darkly about the necessity of it, he had stopped briefly to dig around in his bag of items, pulling out a black shirt that could serve as a shield between his skin and the unpleasant interior of his coat. He yanked it on over his head, becoming severely irritated with his predicament. Why couldn't they be waging a war on the Northern Continent? Cold, he could handle. Heat, as he was learning, he could not. His sleep was broken and disjointed that night as the cool winds did their best to chill him, slipping malevolently across his damp skin.

Upon awakening stiff and unhappy the next morning, Sephiroth was even less pleased to discover that his item bag had somehow developed a hole; thinking back, he could remember the exact moment it had happened, the claw of a creature having ripped the fabric as it lunged past him from behind. Though he had killed it not an instant later, the damage had been done, and Sephiroth had assumed that it was his coat that had taken the abuse. Growling, he stuffed the bag and its meager contents (which amounted to a grand total of three MREs, two hi-potions, and an ether) into his coat pocket. At least if anything else fell out while he was traveling it would land in his pocket, he thought sourly. He largely hated himself for it, but in light of all that had happened, he was forced to admit that Professor Hojo was right for once. He _was_ a foolish child. No _man_ would have made the kind or amount of idiotic mistakes he had in the last few days.

A shadow hung over Sephiroth's heart and mind as he set off once more, forgoing anything for breakfast now that his supplies were so limited. He could survive on one meal a day, particularly since he had only been eating two before. As long as he didn't fight any more dragons, he thought darkly, he should still be able to reach a Shinra outpost or checkpoint before he ran out of food. Then again, maybe a dragon was just what he needed. Another mutated beast might ferry him back across the mountain range, and this time, he would know how to kill it. Giving in to an angry, childish impulse, Sephiroth began kicking at rocks he found in his path, measuring how far he could launch them and finding an odd satisfaction in hearing them break apart when they landed. Mako injections. They did do wonders.

A frown flitted across his face when the last rock he kicked did not shatter like the rest. _What-?_ His thoughts were interrupted before they'd even had a chance to get started by the sound of the stone's belated demise reaching his ears. Sephiroth moved at a jog around the corner; his chosen path had led him into a twisting pass between the mountains, and he had expected the rock to smash into the mountainside like all the rest. When he got to the place he had calculated the rock would hit, he saw why it hadn't.

The wall of the mountains had fallen away, opening up onto a sort of plateau. An uneven, weathered path, clearly carved by runoff from the craggy peaks during rains, led down the cliffside into a valley. Sephiroth frowned as his eyes scanned it. He hadn't been expecting this. He flicked through his inventory of mental maps, searching for the valley, but found nothing; many of Shinra's maps of the Wutai area were vague and hardly helpful. Holding back an aggravated noise, he glanced around again, and this time his eyes narrowed. There was smoke rising from somewhere down below. As this section of Wutai was rather wooded, he couldn't tell what the source of the smoke rising over the trees was. He shifted, feeling the Masamune's familiar heavy weight center him. More alert than he had been before, Sephiroth headed down the incline. Upon reaching the bottom some fifteen minutes later, he cast a glance around. There was nothing out of the ordinary that he could see, and so, jogging once again, he turned in the direction of the smoke, wondering vaguely what would be waiting for him when he found its source.

~.~.~.~

The sound that left Sephiroth's throat was something of a mixture between a sigh and a growl. Before him lay the blackened bones of a ruined village. Off to the side of it was a mound of dirt that was clearly a mass grave, more than likely filled with bodies of whatever Wutaians had died here. Most in Shinra would have had no problem whatsoever with leaving the bodies for scavenging monsters, but they had standing orders not to do so, as the infantrymen, lacking SOLDIER enhancements, tended not to fare so well against the varieties of beasts such carnage drew the attention of. The sigh/growl threatened to escape again, but Sephiroth stopped it before it passed his lips, turning away from the smoldering settlement with disgust. There was nothing he could do about it now, and little he could have done in any case had he been there before it was torched. Sephiroth released the tension that had been building in his muscles as he approached the smoke's source. There was no threat to him here. Given that the place was still very warm, though, Shinra might be somewhere nearby, and so Sephiroth started to the west, following faint impressions of boots in the hard ground.

Judging from the sun's position in the sky, it was shortly past midday when Sephiroth, still on the trail of whomever had left the tracks, heard a small sound. _Someone is following me,_ he thought, taking care not to change anything about the way he was moving. If they didn't know he was aware of them, he would have a slight advantage when they tried to leap out of the greenery at him. For whoever it was tailing him was making their way through the small trees and bushes to his right, not so much keeping pace with him as lagging behind, though clearly trying to keep him in sight. The thought crossed his mind that it _may_ be an animal or beast of some sort that had yet to gather the courage to come at him, but he dismissed it almost instantly, knowing somehow that his follower was human.

He went on for several minutes, listening with a slight scowl as his inexperienced stalker stumbled along in his wake, unable to keep from wondering who on Gaia this sloppy person was. The amount of noise they were making was ridiculous. At last, deciding that this had continued for long enough, Sephiroth sprang into action. In one fluid motion, he had spun to face the shrubs and the person hiding within them, drawing the Masamune out of its sheath and pointing it in their direction. His actions were rewarded with a startled squeal, followed by a stream of high-pitched, nearly unintelligible Wutaian.

Sephiroth very pointedly made a habit of not revealing his emotions to other people. Even Angeal and Genesis, whom he had tentatively begun to think of as 'friends' rarely saw any indication how he was feeling. However, upon lowering his katana and coming face-to-face with big, dark eyes set in a small, pale face, he could not keep his own eyes from widening in shock. The child babbled at him again, scooting away from his sword, and Sephiroth's emotional dam came close to bursting.

"No," he said aloud, as though it would banish her from his sight. "No!" he repeated angrily when nothing of the sort happened.

_It just HAD to get worse._

* * *

Et... voila! ;) Sephiroth is so much fun to work with when he's younger. I apologize if he seems a bit out of character, but personally, I don't care if you ARE Sephiroth; if you're a fifteen year-old boy, you have emotions. A lot of them. Thus my reasoning behind his behavior. Anyways. Sooo, what do you think? Good bad yes no? I can't wait to get to work on the next chapter, but I hope I'm not the only one enjoying this. In any case, I'd be glad to know your thoughts, so drop me a review if you've got the time or the inclination. And before you ask: no, it's not Yuffie ;P Just a random kid I made up. Thanks so much for reading, and I hope you enjoyed yourselves!

~destinykeyblade


	2. No Luck At All

Yay, I'm back! 'Bout time; this has been done for several days now, but then again, without an internet capable computer at home, I guess I have to cut myself just a little slack. Anyways, moving right along, I want to say thank you very much to DayDreamingDonuts for following, and to my reviewers DyraDrabbles, koryanders, and the guest known as Elise :3 You guys are awesome. Now I'd like to jabber at you just a little - this chapter was meant to be longer, but after a review for one of my other fics, I decided to go a bit more into detail on something, and it's somehow become its own chapter. So I couldn't get to where I wanted to leave you in this chapter, and the next one is unfortunately not finished yet. However, it's not all that far from it, and I will do my very best to get out here next week and post it. I'd also like you all to check out DyraDrabbles' story _Hero_, which is completely awesome and deserves your love and attention. Seriously, do yourself a favor and read it. I have no specific songs for you to listen to this chapter, as I listened to a great many things, but one in particular I remember restarting a few times was Queen Chrysalis by PrimEvil, which can be found on Youtube. And I think that's it for my blathering today!

**Disclaimer: *to the tune of Here Comes Santa Claus* Don't own Sephiroth, don't own Genesis, don't own anything... Don't own Zack or Cloud, don't own any Turks; must I say it again...? **Forgive me, I had the flu and was mildly drugged up at the time I created that. Don't hold it against me. All I own in this story (so far) is the little girl - whose gender I must ask you to think of as something only you and I know, as I didn't know how else to put it at the time I finished the last chapter. Arigatou gozaimasu!

* * *

Sephiroth stared down at the tiny figure in the dirt, disbelief etched into every line of his face. Blinking rapidly, he lowered his left arm, letting the tip of the Masamune cut into the ground as his mind worked frantically to come up with a solution to the impossible problem he was suddenly faced with. His thoughts came to an abrupt halt, his entire body stiffening as, with his sword lowered and the threat having apparently passed, the Wutaian child launched itself at his leg and clung tightly to him. Never one for physical contact, Sephiroth's heart nearly stopped. It was purely a reflex when he kicked it off, cringing slightly as its back made contact with the ground and it let out a whimper. The child sat up, looking at him tearily, and let out another stream of its native language that came too quickly for him to translate.

_Breathe,_ he commanded himself sharply as the child sniffled once, running a skinny, dirty arm under its nose. _Focus._ A forced calm, but a calm nonetheless, spread throughout him as he took several deep breaths. With his heartbeat restored to normal, Sephiroth's mind began to function again, and he quickly took stock of the child's appearance. Now that he was actually looking, it was incredibly clear that he had been stumbled upon by a young girl - very young, from the slight chubbiness in her face, though a chubby-cheeked Wutaian child could never be called so in the presence of even an average child from Midgar. Like almost all of her race, she was very slight. Sephiroth kept his face blank, but frowned mentally at just how slight; the girl seemed to have next to no meat separating her skin from her bones. Then again, he had had exactly ten minutes of experience with children over the course of his life. Perhaps he was mistaken, and all children were supposed to be this thin. In any case, the girl's health or lack thereof was not his top priority.

Though he was filled with a sense of dread at the realization, Sephiroth was painfully aware that he could not as a human being leave the little girl here on her own. The odds of her surviving even one night alone in the wilderness were slim to none, and, as Angeal had once said, slim left town. He would have to take her with him, he decided - an unattractive truth even had he not been a member of the enemy army in this country. As it was, he could only hope that he was able to locate more Shinra forces swiftly and find a settlement of Wutaians _not_ set to be attacked and deposit the girl there. Forcing down a dismal sigh, Sephiroth sheathed his weapon; the girl yelped at the movement and scrambled backward, once more rattling off Wutaian words with the speed of a machine gun. While Sephiroth had taken the time to learn the language before he had ever been dispatched to its country of origin, he had rarely had the opportunity to hear it spoken back to him, and as such was unprepared for his new companion's rapidity. _Not to mention she has some sort of rural accent,_ he noted unhappily, locking his cat-like green eyes with the little girl's deep brown, currently widened in fear and apprehension.

A very small sigh did escape his mouth as he crouched down in front of the girl, but as with the one he had allowed himself before his fight with the dragon, he doubted she had heard it. Taking a breath, Sephiroth attempted to look at her reassuringly. _"Daijobu desu,"_ he said, watching her liquid eyes widen for some reason he could not be sure of. He did not have any time to ponder it, either, as she immediately resumed her rapid-fire jabbering. Sephiroth blinked helplessly as the torrent of words washed over him, not a single word decipherable from the ones before or after it. He waited a moment, thinking that she would have to stop talking at some point, but when it became clear to him that she had no intentions of shutting her mouth, he took matters into his own hands. _"Teishi!"_ he commanded, giving her a stern look. The effect was instantaneous. The little girl's voice died before he had even finished the two-syllable word for 'stop', and he could not stop a feeling of satisfaction from spreading through him. _Perhaps now we can actually make some progress._

Sephiroth rose to a standing position, gesturing for the girl to do the same. She clumsily got to her feet, fear present in her eyes once again. Not one for stalling, the young SOLDIER got straight to heart of the matters he wished to discuss. _"Anata no ie wa doko desu ka?"_ he asked brusquely. If the child lived in the area, he thought hopefully, perhaps he would not have to keep her with him for more than a few hours. His heart sank like a rock that his hopes dashed themselves against as she pointed silently behind them to the black smoke rising from the smoldering village. _I am going to have words with whoever ordered a civilian village razed,_ he seethed internally, his feeling of anger warring for dominance with the curiosity that had sprung up within him, bouncing about the question of how this little girl had survived like a puppy prancing in the snow. Giving in, he decided to simply ask, if in more... gentle terms. _"What are you doing out here?"_ he inquired of her, making a quick gesture at the plant-life she had been hiding in to indicate her being out of the village.

_"Mama told me run,"_ she reported, a flicker of confusion crossing her pale little face. Mercifully, she had decreased the speed at which she spoke, and Sephiroth was able to convert the words into his primary language, even despite her strange accent. _"I hid in the plants 'n fell asleep... 'N then I saw you, 'n..."_

The silver-haired teen was flabbergasted, though of course he showed no outward signs. _She slept through her village being destroyed?_ he thought incredulously, staring at her. With difficulty he suppressed the urge to shake his head, instead breaking off the conversation with a simple order: _"Come with me."_ When she only stared back, Sephiroth began walking away, still following the faint impressions of boots leading away from the burnt village. He had only gone a few strides before he heard the little girl stumbling in her haste to catch up with him.

* * *

_What would Angeal do? Think of Angeal. Think of Angeal. Think of Angeal..._

The sun was creeping ridiculously slowly across the sky, reinforcing a horrible notion that time was moving slower than it should have been. Sephiroth trudged across the countryside, feeling on the verge of a breakdown and clinging to his mantra like as lifeline as the little girl in turn clung to him, her entire hand scarcely encompassing two of his fingers. Everything in him screamed that he _must_ terminate this physical contact **NOW**, but the mental image of his favorite conversational partner would not allow him to do so. The Banoran SOLDIER was irritatingly adept at handling almost every kind of social situation, and horribly warm-hearted. He had what his lifelong friend and fellow SOLDIER Genesis referred to as a 'big-brother complex' which drove his behavior, and in doing so made him generally impossible to dislike, in fact usually drawing people to him as moths to a flame. In short, Angeal was good at people, particularly children, and knowing how caring he would be to this Wutaian girl, Sephiroth also knew that he could not take his only true friend's disapproval if the older teen were to discover that he had treated her coldly. So it was with great personal discomfort that the fifteen year-old and his tiny traveling companion made their way toward what he hoped was a Shinra base.

This contact was exactly why he had been so upset when his stalker was revealed to be a child. The ten minutes he had spent around children were some of the most horrible of his life, which was saying quite a lot given his own childhood in the labs. He remembered well the beginning of his ordeal: There was a new secretary or something of that nature who had recently been hired, and had yet to make arrangements for the care of her offspring. Thus, while she spent her free moments and law-required breaks making calls to inquire about a babysitter, she had been keeping her three young children in a waiting room. Had the room in question not been equipped with a television set, the chaos would have come far more quickly than it had. As it happened, the human-shaped monsters lasted four days before they decided that they could wander around the building despite what their mother had told them.

Sephiroth had just returned from a simple monster extermination mission in the slums, and had not so much as broken a sweat. He knew from catching sight of his reflection in the glass doors of the Shinra building that, had he not come into the lobby from outside, no one would have suspected that he had not just come down from his room ready to begin the day. No doubt his immaculate appearance, coupled with his obvious youth, was why the harried secretary had chosen him to pounce on. Older children could cope with younger children, she must have thought, and a teenager who looked fresh was clearly a better choice than the adults who looked like they needed more coffee before they could even listen to a request. Sephiroth had been completely unprepared for the woman's relieved exclamation when she caught sight of him. Before he had been able to get a word in edgewise, she - with her hooligans dangling off of her - had pulled him into the waiting room, which was strewn with toys in varying states of dismemberment, brushed her cling-ons off, and shut the door on the four of them, making declarations that he would be relieved shortly, she was calling a sitter now, and thanking him profusely for volunteering his assistance. The woman scurried out of their sight. As one, the three incarnations of evil turned towards Sephiroth, malicious smiles adorning their faces. The next ten minutes made him wonder what he could possibly have done to deserve being thrown into purgatory, as that was clearly his location. The so-called _children_ had attacked without mercy, lunging for him, and with his strength too great to defend himself without causing them substantial physical injury, Sephiroth had been made to suffer. They were _all over him_, in his face, in his lap when they pulled him into the floor, climbing on him like some sort of jungle-gym, in his face with no regard for his personal space, _grabbing his hair_, coughing and sneezing and slobbering and-

And that Banoran boy had never been a more welcome sight than he was at that moment, striding around the corner and looking into the glass-walled room with alarm. The dark-haired teen had hurried to the door and pulled it open, distracting the beasts. Sephiroth dashed for safety of the outside world, quickly and quietly explaining his horrid situation to the newcomer, who had nodded sympathetically and smiled, saying that he'd be glad to take over. Although Sephiroth detested even the very concept of being rescued, he had not argued with the other SOLDIER - Angeal, he said his name was - and had accepted the offer, walking swiftly down the hallway and wilting slightly with relief when he was out of sight. A small, wry smile graced the current Sephiroth's face as he pulled himself out of the awful memory. Had it not been for that unpleasant occasion, he likely would not be on any sort of terms with the Banoran, much less on a first-name basis, for it was on that day that their friendship was sparked, later that evening when Sephiroth spotted him in the mess hall and offered a somewhat belated thank-you to the other boy.

The girl stumbled for the thirty-eighth time (Sephiroth had been counting) since they had begun their trek nearly an hour prior, holding tightly to his fingers to keep herself mostly upright until she got her feet under her again. Though she was nothing like the horrors he had faced in that waiting room, he was still much less than thrilled to have her with him, and her aforementioned clinging and stumbling was not improving his opinion of her. _This isn't working,_ Sephiroth thought glumly, casting a glance at the top of her dark head and noting the leaves and twigs in her hair with disdain. _She isn't capable of keeping up with me, even holding my hand. And I am not going to slow down, or we will never get anywhere._ He let out a quiet growl, running his other hand through his own hair. _I may have to carry her,_ he realized, wanting to cringe. At least Wutai's abominable humidity had forced him to put on the shirt he'd had in his bag, so there was no chance of contact with his skin.

The imaginary light bulb levitating above Sephiroth's head lit up, shining brightly as an idea came to him. He stopped walking and gently tugged his gloved fingers out of the little girl's grasp; she didn't seem to mind, plopping down in the grass not a second later and peering up at him with an oddly detached sort of curiosity that was easily explained when she yawned. Sephiroth noted these things only out of his peripheral vision, the majority of his attention being focused on his ruined item bag. The hole that had been torn in it was nowhere near the seams, and shouldn't widen much even with stress put on it, especially if he fixed the edges with his Fire materia. He almost smiled. Withdrawing a small dagger from a partially hidden sheath at his waist - even before he had acquired his enormous blade, trying to use a sword for anything and everything that needed cutting was a ridiculous idea - Sephiroth sliced another hole in the fabric. The girl cocked her head to the side, looking on in confusion as he used the barest minimum of his materia's power to singe the edges, which should keep the bag from unraveling. Looking over the bag one last time, Sephiroth turned it over and began fiddling with the adjustable straps. When he had first been given the supply bag, the silver-haired boy had thought it rather stupid; it was practically a small backpack, which he found ridiculous and only kept with him because the rest of his unit was comprised of idiots who didn't have the brains to carry their healing items with them at all times. Now its size would serve his purposes rather than making him want to roll his eyes.

When Sephiroth looked down at her, the girl pushed herself back up to her feet, looking questioningly at the bag. _"What's'at for?"_ she asked, yawning again. Her dark brown eyes fluttered closed for a few seconds, and she swayed on the spot before snapping her eyelids back up and standing as straight as she could.

_"Get in the bag,"_ Sephiroth ordered, and her eyes widened. She opened her mouth, clearly about to ask why, but he cut her off before the words left her. _"I'll carry you."_ She stared at him a moment longer - or did it still count as staring if she blinked? Either way, the child regarded him with what could not properly be called shock, but may have been a relative. At last, she closed her mouth, which had been hanging open, and reached her arms up for the backpack. Sephiroth handed it to her, trying not to despair when he realized that with the weight of its thick fabric the thing was probably too heavy for her to hold. She managed to maneuver herself somewhat awkwardly into the pack, then paused, looking up at him uncertainly. Sephiroth plucked the bag off the ground without a word, feeling somewhat deflated by her reaction to his idea. The child squeaked as she slid down into the bag's confines. She was so small that she vanished almost completely from his sight, and in comparison to the things he was used to lifting weighed next to nothing. Only the girl's legs were left visible, and even then only to her knees. Sephiroth pulled the straps on over his arms, feeling her insignificant weight settle between his shoulderblades. Though he preferred to keep his weapon affixed to his back, **(A/N: Think Legend of Zelda, just with a bigger sword)** in order to accommodate the child, he had put the sword at his waist. He turned his head and glanced backward in time to see her poke her head up over the edge, looking out at the grounds they had already traversed. Another yawn left her, and she shifted, falling back down into the bag and drawing her knees up so that her shoes rested on the edges of the holes near the bottom. She was deadweight in moments, and Sephiroth stepped up his pace, eager to make real progress.

~.~.~.~

The sun was still fairly high in the sky, although the sensation of time standing still had abated, much to Sephiroth's relief. As expected, he had covered a great deal more ground with the child in the backpack rather than attempting to walk with him, and while there was not yet a sign of any sort of Shinra fortifications, with his enhanced eyesight he could still make out the impressions of boots in the ground. His small companion had slept for roughly an hour, he thought, before waking up with a series of yawns and odd noises that Sephiroth refused to categorize as cute. He did not like children. He knew what they were capable of, and he would not be lulled into a false sense of security. Still, every now and then, he would glance back at her, just to be certain she had not come to any strange harm since the last time he had seen her. After all, his intention was to return her to her people intact. Each time was the same - the little girl was looking out at the landscape, fingers lightly gripping the edge of the bag's opening, the top flap resting on her head like some sort of hat. Satisfied that nothing was amiss, Sephiroth would turn back to the front and continue his trek, wondering vaguely if these prints were ever going to lead him to anything.

A terrified scream shattered the silence and did its best to shatter Sephiroth's eardrums as well; despite himself, he staggered, though he quickly regained his proper stance and looked over his shoulder to see what on Gaia could be wrong. _"Bakemono!"_ the girl was screeching repeatedly, finger outstretched and pointing at what was indeed a monster swiftly approaching them. Sephiroth narrowed his eyes and whirled to face the creature. _"Shizukani,"_ he commanded, drawing Masamune out of its sheath. The girl fell quiet with a whimper and disappeared within the bag, pulling the fabric around her as though to further hide herself. The beast drew nearer. Sephiroth readied his blade. Then, without warning, two more of the same sort of creature burst from concealment in the trees on what was now his right-hand side and leapt for him, snarling.

_Guard Hounds?_ he thought in disbelief as he dodged them. _Those aren't native to Wutai. And these have been altered just like that dragon,_ Sephiroth noted grimly as the Hound the girl had spotted attacked him as well, slavering excessively, its oversized muscles twitching. _Something has been happening here, and it does not bode well for either side._ The Hounds formed themselves into a triangle around him, as one letting out a howl that would have frozen the blood of another man. Another scream came from inside the bag, and Sephiroth did not need any more experience than he had to know from the sounds that followed that the girl was crying. His eyes narrowed further, this time in anger, and he lunged for the creature on his left, bringing Masamune around in a wide arc so he would catch it when it tried to dodge the blow as he knew it would. The Guard Hound practically killed itself, leaping right into the edge of the sword, which sliced horizontally into its chest, spilling blood onto the grass. Halfway through the attack, Sephiroth gripped his blade with both hands, shouting with the effort of redirecting it as he pulled upward on the hilt. Though it protested slightly, Masamune bent to the will of its master and sliced through the flesh of his enemy until there was no more, upon which Sephiroth brought the sword back down. The Hound fell in pieces to the ground, cleaved vertically in two, the right piece landing awkwardly due to the horizontal wound.

The remaining beasts howled once more, anger clear in their voices, but Sephiroth gave them no time to use the emotion to their advantage, spinning gracefully toward them and cutting into their bodies. Agonized roars and squeals rent the air as they attempted to attack him regardless of their injuries, turning again to rage when he easily stepped out of their way and cast a Fire spell on his weapon, a smirk on his face as he stabbed the flaming blade through the heart of the second Hound. The last fell only seconds later, the body landing with a _plumph_ while the head rolled away somewhere. Sephiroth exhaled slowly, banishing the adrenaline rush and forcing his body to relax as he again pulled out his cleaning cloth out of habit and quickly wiped the blood from his sword. _"It's alright,"_ he said as he sheathed the weapon, reaching back to tap on the side of the quivering backpack. _"They're dead."_

_Is that a good idea?_ asked a voice in his head that sounded suspiciously like Angeal, and he paused for a moment, suddenly seeing the corpses before him in a new light. Rather than triumph, he now saw horror, and a strange emotion flooded him. Was it guilt? _I cannot expose the child to this,_ he realized, and quickly spoke up when he felt her moving around. _"But don't come out yet. Stay down."_ All movement ceased, the girl falling still, though she was still sniffling. Sephiroth took hold of the shoulder straps in the hopes of keeping the bag from bouncing around so much, and after giving the simple command _"Hold on,"_ set off at a run away from the carnage, still following those faint footprints in the earth. They needed to find someone, and soon. He was so vastly unqualified to look after this child, 'it wasn't even funny' - another of Angeal's odd expressions. _One day I am going to have to ask him about those,_ Sephiroth mused, then left off his thoughts in favor of scanning the surroundings for any more unwelcome guests.

Another thirty minutes went by with no sign of anything. Sephiroth was beginning to feel a bit winded, for although the mako treatments granted energy in abundance - what good was a SOLDIER who could not fight for the duration of a potential battle? - even he could not run forever over uneven terrain while carrying a small person. Thus it was a great relief for several reasons when, cresting the top of a small hill, he caught sight in the distance of what appeared to be two Shinra operatives. He slowed to a jog as he approached, narrowing his eyes. They were lying down. Had they stopped to rest? Apprehension filled him, and he dropped his speed even further. The way things were going already, it would be his luck to find them dead. The wind chose that moment to blow, and Sephiroth nearly gagged on the stench of blood. Though he no longer wanted to, he approached the bodies, turning his eyes away from the sight of innards spilling out onto the ground from one. The other body was mangled, large hunks of meat missing from revealed bones. These two men had clearly been food for something, and Sephiroth had to force himself not to grimace at the thought of it returning while he and the girl were present.

Feeling an entirely insignificant amount of guilt, Sephiroth repeated his warning for the child to remain where she was, and knelt down to check the corpses for any items they might possess. He came up mostly empty-handed, finding only a few smashed potions in the mauled man's equally shredded bag. Unlike the SOLDIER unit Sephiroth was a part of, these men clearly understood the importance of taking their items with them, so the other man had his bag as well, and though the same could not be said for him, it had luckily survived the attack. Inside it, Sephiroth found three more packets of food to add to his own three, a potion, another ether, and...

He blinked, pulling it slowly out of the bag. _A PHS?_ he thought, amazed. From their uniforms these had only been infantrymen. Why would this one have had a phone? Shaking his head slightly, Sephiroth decided it didn't matter. He removed his other items from his pocket and arranged them all to fit in the infantryman's bag, which was far smaller and more practical than his own. He began to suspect that the higher-ups in the company were purposely attempting to irritate the SOLDIER operatives, as the oversized containers were hardly the first or last affront. Pushing that thought away as well, he tucked the communication device safely within an inner pocket of the bag and rose quickly back to his feet, setting off again. The sooner he got away from these bodies, the sooner he could contact someone. After all, there was clearly something dangerous in this area, and he didn't want t-

A ferocious snarl intruded on his thoughts, and Sephiroth suppressed a growl of his own as he yet again unsheathed Masamune, spinning to face the beast. _Either I do have bad luck, or I haven't got any at all,_ he groused, jumping out of the way of a swiping claw and slicing off the leg it was connected to. _I'm not sure which is worse._

* * *

That's it for chapter two, folks! Hope you enjoyed, and please don't be shy about reviewing if you've got the time for me! I need feedback to get better, y'know, so if there's something irking you, lay it on me! Thanks a bunch for reading, and I WILL get out here with the next chapter ASAP. Also, just a quick note on the kid - the more I write, the more heavily I base her on my baby cousin. My family is very small, and I understand that Asian people are not very big either, so the backpack bit should make some more sense when you've read the following: my cousin is two years old. She got some clothes for Christmas that are sized for eighteen months? They're too big. So I hope you don't think I'm too crazy with the kid fitting into Sephiroth's idiotically sized item bag, because yes, it can happen in real life. There are children that tiny. That said, I shall repeat that I hope you enjoyed yourselves, and I hope you come back for the next chapter!

~destinykeyblade


End file.
